The Walls Were White
by laurenwritesforfun
Summary: This is my baby, if you read any read this, I like it.


_The Walls Were White_

_He sat and waited for the news, was she okay? _

The walls are white, covered with small hand prints of purple,green, and blue. Sad faces surround me. I can't tell what they're feeling but I sure as hell know what I am. I'm so nervous- thinking maybe I should go and lean up against one of those walls. That way I would stop the chair from shaking and not have so many heads turned my way. My heart is either beating furiously or not beating at all, I can't really tell. I'm afraid if I go and lean up against one of those walls they might close in on me, engulf me. Take in my body, like depression took her smile. You would think I'm on heroine- I'm hilousinating scenes of suicide. Not to mention, my head is spinning somewhat like when I just got off the merry-go-rounds when i was little and my stumics in an up-roar. This is ridiculous, could it take that long?! Will I ever be able to hold her again and be able to feel her heart beat against mine?

These people are probably comparing me to themselves. Holding self pity.This women in the seat across the room sips from a soda can like shes at Stewarts having a rootbeer. Who the hell does she think she is. I'm sitting here worrying if I'm going to loose the one person who means the most to me and all she can think about is her f-ing rootbeer concieted bitch. If that was vodka she was drinking...Hell. maybe it is, what do I know. God. If it is, I'd love to get some and I'm sure every one else would too.

In one room probably the size of an average bedroom there is an intenstiy unexplainable. I can only imagine what everyone else is here for. Were they waiting to hear their fate too? Anxiously awaiting the truth about the one they cared about more than anything. More than all the words they've spoken and all the moves they've made? I dont think so. I care so much about this girl. Her smile. That was washed away.

_Like the Last Twenty-four Hours_

I recall the past year like it all occured with in the last 24 hours. It all began the day I met Delilah.

"Mom!" I yelled, as I sat up in bed at two am on January 1, 2005. Waking up from a dream that had scared me shitless. My sheats were dry but i felt like I was sweating after a 3 mile sprint like I used to do in track. My mom had always been there for me.We'd spent New Years together trying to not let my father ruin our night. I guess I grew up to be a sensitive yet, caring boy- very appreciative of women. And all the caring gestures of a mother, the bond they shared with their children- unlike my father. But that's a whole other story that you'll hear about later. I loved my mom, and all the women who I'd grown up with like my aunts, grandma, and cousins. As for everyone, and everything else in the world it was completely the oppisite.She came running up to my side and told me it was alright. "Alright, alright, it's okay. What was your crazy dream this time, Jared?"

It starts as day one. January 1, 2005. 12pm. I just woke up. As of right now people think of me as that kid. That Kid_: noun; _Jared, sixteen year old, immature boy who has no appreciation for anyone and has a very cruel, harsh outlook on life. To tell you the truth, they don't falsely precieve me.My life consists of sad songs, poems of a boy wrapped up tightly in a blanket of self pity, and whethering in the past.

I wake up, 12pm. Mom says I have to go to some stupid party for school. I stare at her with a pathetic look on my face, im far from excited. "Did dad come home yet?", Mom laughs. "Nice change of topic. Contarary to our belief he did come home last night. Or in my time zone, this s'morning" I didn't want to go to this gay party. First of all, it was probably filled with cocky jocks and bimbo cheerleaders. Plus, all the "unlabeled" cliques. Unlabeled, right. Saying your unlabeled is a label itself. I didn't get along with these people. Like the lady and the rootbeer. All they cared about was who's hooking up with who and how much their pac sun bathing suits cost. Second of all, I don't my mom alone with him.

I dont want her alone with him. My father, Henry. He drinks, everything with every one every second of the day. Within the past two years I dont think I've seen him with out either a bottle,a shot glass, or a glass with a salted rim, in hand. As they say "He uses and (damn straight) abuses" He's either drunk,on his way to drinking,or hung-over ninety-five percent of the time,its ridiculous. Henry doesn't only abuse the alcohol he abuses my mom too. I like to pretend its the alcohol making the fists and leaving the bruises but as reluctant as I am to say- the five percent of the time he is sober its the worse because he's not staggering or falling over. I'm telling you it's prsistant abuse. I love my mom so much, and don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those kids who shut their eyes and act oblivious to the situation.

The first time I witnessed it I remember clenching my fists. He was beating away at my life. My mom was my life. I cared about nothing else. I grabbed my mom and pushed my dad away. Henry stared at me absent mindedly. I said to him, eyes widened, "Abuse your self and abuse the alcohol, and abuse what ever you want but get the fuck off of my mother, you dont even deserve to look at her." He slapped me straight across the face. His hand left a red mark, that when I first saw it, I thought it would never fade.He looked directly in my eyes and I shivered. "Don't tell me what to do you useless kid. If you ever pull something like that again I'll have you sent out for adoption " He knew it struck me hard. If he took me away from my mother, God knows what I would do. My mother couldn't even interfeer with me getting adopted, or whatever, because she knew he had complete power and feared for both of our lives. So I laid low.

I walk into the party. So much for it benefiting me in school, if your alcohol consumption is your test score clearly everyone here is passing with flying colors. The rooms are crowded with girls in short skirts and guys with beer cups, joy. I thought maybe I'd get a drink. Then I decided its probably all alcohol, far from apitizing. Plus, I need to drive home.

"Wow.", thats all I remember saying. She was so beautiful. Her hair was long, but not too long. Redish brown. Wavy but not curly. She sat there and stared across the room. I could tell she didnt think this party was exactly "the bomb" or "beneficial" either. Here eyes were green. A bright green not mixed with yellow or brown. Her eyes reminded me of spring. I felt goosebumps up my arms, down my spine- i shivered. Here smile stood out above all, it was so happy almost too happy for this party. Her smile didnt match her expression and look. God. She's so beautiful... I wondered why she sat alone. I guess it was because she wasn't in a short skirt flaunting her beauty. She was content with herself and didn't need the attention of severaly trashed dudes or a skirt to make her beautiful.

She sees me staring at her, she smiles and waves me over. Beautiful and friendly, rad. "Woah", i whisper to myself, "cool". I sit down next to her. And the chills repeat. "You don't look entertained, at all." I nod. "Neither am I, lets chill. You look tough enough will you protect me from those guys?" From that moment on I promised to protect her.

That night, I opened up to her. Opened up to her, more than anyone, ever. Not that I open up to really anyone but still. Whie I talked and talked her eyes stayed focused,staring into mine. I'm positive if I was her I would've made up excuse to escape by now. She didnt look bored, she didnt turn away and look uninterested, she just listened. Her facial exspression changed with every detail. From my father being an angry drunk to me not knowing where I stand with anyone anymore. As I finished telling her everything I finally let out a word. "Wow." Jesus! I can't think of anything but wow to say to her. She probably thinks i'm some stupid guy who's..eh nevermind. "Exactly." She said with a smile. "Huh?" I said back. I was too busy thinking about what I was saying I want even listening to her. "Wow, was a good choice of wording. Perfectly fits our situation." Amber said.

Next thing I knew we were lying together on the bathroom floor. Best night _of my life. _Her red shirt was too the left of me, and as I turned my face right I saw her lying there smiling at me. Everything happened so fast but so wonderfully. I looked at the clock 12:10, I guess it all didnt go so fast as I thought, we'd been together almost four hours. I swallowed hard when she stood up. So beautiful, everything we'd just done rushed through my head. Her body, her kiss, her words; my hands, my lips, my hearing. Is this what it felt like to love? Caught thinking too hard again, she looked concerned "Are you alright?" I laughed and nodded. She let out a sigh of relief,"Who knew school functions could be so beneficial." I stood up, brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her gently on the forhead then she giggled knowing what I was getting at. "I love how you think too", she answered. "Amber" she grabbed a pen and wrote - Amber with a heart and her number on my hand; 283-561-5629. God, I dialed each of those 9 numbers so many times to say her name, Amber; yet, at the time I didn't even know if i'd ever dial them. She put her crimson shirt, and smiled at me, that smile i love. Then she was gone.

I waited till the part started clearing out then called my mom to see how she was doing. She seemed happy, I asked her why, and she didn't answer but responded with a question; "Who?" I love that woman so much, she's brilliant, my idol, she can tell what you're feeling from the sound of your voice. "Amber, 283-561-5629" 3


End file.
